For Her It Is Simply So

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Contributor: Patrick Trotti

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It is
It is simply you

It is when you don’t feel like wearing makeup
Or you let your hair dry on its own
Because then I get to witness different variations of you,

It is when you can help but snort when you laugh
Because laughter keeps you from having to think of the pain you’re in,

It is when you have food stuck in your teeth
Making your smile vulnerable
Or how sometimes one of your eyes goes lazy
And then it readjusts itself and my stomach flips
Because now both of your eyes looking at me again,

It is all of these things
And more

It’s powerful enough to get me out of bed
When my pills have slowed my mind to a stand still,

It’s powerful enough to portion out my feelings so they will last
And not fizzle out like all of my manic thoughts,

It’s powerful enough that it will sustain me
Without an expiration date or the need for a refill,

I trace the outlines of your tattoos at night when I can’t sleep
The ink sitting just beneath the surface
Of your freckled skin
But the real artwork is the space in between,

When you say I love you
It’s almost enough to make up for
A childhood full of love denied,

Sometimes I’m scared to touch you
For fear that the sins of my self
Will clash against your innocence,

The voice in my head is no longer raspy
And gnarled
But it’s soft and sweet
The only way I know how to keep you with me constantly,

I pull the sheets and blanket over our heads in bed
So that none of the athletes on my wall
Or my teddy bear on the nightstand
Can get a look at your smile
My selfishness redirected into devotion,

The smell of your sight
The taste of your touch
The sound
Of your name;
They’re all zigzagged together like the paint splatter of Pollock,

I put my hand through your hair
And follow it down to the very end
Which is the best part because of the curls
But also the worst because it means I’m almost done,

I tell you something shocking
Just so I could pluck one of the hairs
That stood up on the back on your neck
And put it in my pocket
So I could carry a piece of you with me forever,

I don’t talk about you in therapy
Because you’re the one functioning thing in my life
And I don’t want to jinx it
With the yellow notepad of my shrink,

The way you walk
Sort of side to side
Like a penguin
So you won’t take too big a stride and fall
Is great if only
Because I get to give you my arm for balance
And interlock my callused fingers with the soft touch of yours,

Your poor circulation
Keeps me wide awake
As we snuggle
And play footsie like a high school couple,

That moment between the buzzing of the phone
And me looking at the screen
Is the second best feeling behind only
When I realize that it’s you on the other end,

So shed the layer of makeup
Because your imperfections
Are much more memorable
Than the deluxe Sephora package
Could ever promise,

You listen to me explain the importance of baseball
And how it teaches a fan about failure
Because even the best hitters fail six or seven times out of ten
And you sat there and let me go on and on even though this is the third time this week
That I complained about the lack of another left handed bat in the lineup
Just because you like to see me so excited about something,

I take you to my local library
And you listen to my self-pretentious musings on different books
As we walk through the aisles
And you patiently wait until I’m done talking
And take me by the hand and ask to make out with me
The very question is funny
Because of the two of us I should be the one
Asking, and asking again and again just to make sure that
Your light pink lips are willing to smash up against mine
And that your soft face is prepared to withstand my bushy facial fluff
As I brush up against you with eyes almost entirely closed but still a tiny bit open
Because I have to see our lips touch to believe that
I’m really kissing you,

It’s something undeniable
So natural
And at times subtle
But constant
Like the bump on the top of your nose
That reminds me that you’re human after all
And not an angel that dropped into my life.

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Patrick Trotti is a freelance writer based in Rochester, New York.


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